It Wasn't Admiration
by acid-free
Summary: It's wasn't admiration.  It might be anger, jealousy, hunger, apprehension, or relief.  But we all think what we see and what we want might be the same thing.  Chad and Ryan
1. Chapter 1

Part I

Oh…..my….god…

The words push toward the front of Chad's mind, but he can't find a way to say them. He twists and turns, his shoulder blades digging into the wall behind him. Vaguely, his senses are turning dim. His voice is becoming quickly strangled in his throat and his capability for speech has hidden in his brain somewhere under his knowledge of hieroglyphics.

Troy tightens his grip along Chad's throat, his thumb digging into the hollow at the center of his neck and forehead pressed up against Chad's. His eyes almost made Chad's cross while looking into them. Dark, intensely focused, he had seen this look across the basketball court during games, never like the way they were now. Troy pressed him up against the wall by the scruff of his neck while water from the showers pooled around their feet.

Troy reached a soap-slicked hand in-between them and finds Chad's cock.

Those words, once again push toward the front of his brain.

His grasps at Troy's shoulders, between the wall he is resting on and the water slicked body he is holding onto, he has a slim chance of not falling over if his knees buckle.

He remembers how this started for the first time; after a winning game, he and Troy were left over in the shower. At some point, Troy's hand slipped, and landed on Chad's body. After a stifled moan, he was being pressed up against the mental cylinder of the showerhead and his body being handled with the precision that Troy usually left to a basketball.

But now Troy's eyes are trained on Chad's face. His hands are working with quick, assured motions. Chad is trying to grasp control on something, but Troy has gained the upper hand; usually the situation is not exclusive as it has become tonight.

Suddenly he can feel the pressure building, his body winding tight, his world contracting, focusing in on a few sensations. His head snaps back and slams into the tile wall, his thoughts break and spin, he locks his knees so he won't fall over.

Troy reaches up and runs his hand over Chad's hair; Troy's own hair is gracefully plastered to his head. Troy then presses their foreheads back together "Good game," Troy pulls his body away and walks out of the showers.

Taking a shaky breath, Chad's knees buckle and he slides down the wall, splashing a little in the pool of water at the base of the showers. He sits and the water washes over him.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Ryan hated insinuations. Just because a man likes to belt out a good show tune while flourishing along a jazz square doesn't mean he wants to grab at every other man around.

He did find the shoulders of the family gardener very interesting. Prickled with sweat in the afternoon sun, bending and flexing as he worked on a flowerbed.

His tennis instructor was fascinating too. Legs that carried him effortlessly across the court, shifting under tan skin.

Baseball players were seen from his family's private box wearing tight pants, sweaty shirts with arms winding, contracting and then hurling the ball across the field. Ryan really liked the great American game.

People insinuated that as a member of the musical theater community, and being a man, they he would also have to be a gay man.

He was.

Confidence gained by knowing truly who you are, usually isn't gained by a high school sophomore. He knew that. He kept it to himself while focusing his life to his work. He would keep his head down until he could enter waters he knew to be safer. He couldn't help that the times he chose to open his mouth really did not end up in his favor. He did love his sister, even though her sole purpose in life seemed to belittle and manipulate him.

Ryan smiled and adjusted his sunglasses.

He remembered when Adam Smith had grabbed him in the dark during Into the Woods, the musical production his sophomore year. Adam was a senior; Ryan, below him, gained a substantial lead part of Jack while Adam shined as the Baker. Ryan thought what he felt while watching Adam was admiration. He was proved wrong when Adam's hands wound around his wrists in the dark. Sharpay was singing onstage as the Baker's wife, making out with a Prince while Adam's hand skated across his jaw and he lost all focus.

When his mouth closed over Ryan's, he knew it wasn't admiration.

Indecent things happened during that production; things that made him blush while listening to the soundtrack, even later in life, knowing what he had done backstage while that song had played.

He hummed a few bars while grabbing his nine iron and lining up for the shot; the ball flew and landed gracefully on the green. He smiled to himself and replaced the club.

"Nice shot." Chad picked up his clubs and started to walk towards the green. Ryan noted the surprised tone in his voice.

"Thanks," Ryan smiled and watched him walk, body shifting, muscles flexing on his arms as he set the clubs back down and pulled out Ryan's putter.

Ryan stopped and looked at the shot, leaning back to observe the slope of the green. "What do you think, a little to the left?"

He moved and allowed Chad to kneel down near his ball. Ryan observed behind him; the shift of his body in black pants, his shoulders width in his polo, his arms as they balanced him.

Ryan was starting to appreciate the relaxing nature of golf.


End file.
